


Railing

by maciej



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Suicide, mentions of family death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2018-07-16 10:03:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7263514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maciej/pseuds/maciej
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They meet on a bridge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> very loosely based on experiences ive had

They meet on a bridge.

—

"You said you'd never enter my house again."

"Believe me, I wish I didn't have to. Don't you have some gambling to do?"

"Get out. Get out now before I make you."

"Listen, I'm just grabbing things I forgot to bring with me, don't lose the few marbles you have left."

"Oh, _me,_ a few marbles? Look at yourself! You're a mess, I can't even call you my son. What's stopping you from making like he did and ending it?"

He didn't respond.

He gathered what he came for into a duffel bag and nudged her out of the way, tuning out the string of curses that followed. He opened the front door and left the apartment (for the last time, he hopes), hurried down the building's stairwell, speed-walked through the parking lot and managed to catch the public bus just in time.

—

Seungcheol slid open the door of his apartment and closed it behind him. Without even taking his shoes off, he shuffled into the next room and fell back on his bed. He reached into the bag of items he retrieved from his mother's apartment and pulled out his 9th year school ID, a planner from who knows when, and a Polaroid of him holding his younger brother for the first time. He took a closer look at the baby face he took care of for so many years, _teased for so many years, fought with for so many years._ His thoughts were interrupted by the unwelcoming voice of his mother, how she had brought up his brother so lightly in an argument, as if she hadn't cared about her own son from the start, and it enraged him. It was too much. It was too much.

—

So he walked.

Seungcheol walked in the dark of night on the same route he always did when things got to be overwhelming. He reached his arms up past his shoulders and fumbled with the hood of his jacket, throwing it over his lowered head. Sliding his hands back into his pockets, he quickened his pace toward his destination: Ayang Railway Bridge.

Seungcheol knew it was best that he stay away from the bridge. He knew going there hindered his recovery, but he couldn't help it. He would calm down when he sat on the railing, sitting next to where his brother had. Looking at the same scenery as his brother had. He didn't cry thinking about it anymore; tears were replaced by the dullest, heaviest chest pain one could imagine a long time ago. Seungcheol had no any recollection of the funeral whatsoever, or if his mother even cried. He doubted it.

He reached the end of the bridge and stopped three meters from his regular spot.

Someone was sitting there.

What looked to be a young boy with his head down was seated right on the edge of the railing, a little too far off for comfort. He wasn't moving even a little bit; the boy was almost statue-like. Seungcheol had never seen him before—he'd never seen anyone rest on the bridge before. He pushed his thoughts of how similar he looked to someone he knew to the back of his mind.

He wanted to use his voice but didn't know what to say. If he stays silent, will the boy jump? If he speaks, will the boy be taken aback and possibly fall far, far into the water below?

He took the risk.

 

"What are you doing?"

The boy jerked and turned his head around so fast that Seungcheol honestly thought his neck might snap.

"I—nothing," he hesitantly responded. His eyes were puffy, his gaze similar to that of a deer caught in headlights.

"You know, you're, I think you're too close to the edge?" The boy seemed to open his mouth to reply but closed it, biting down on his lip.

Seungcheol continued. "...I've never seen you around here before. I usually sit there, sometimes." He cursed himself in his head. He didn't own this spot, why did he sound so entitled to it?

"Oh... is that so? I'm sorry, I didn't... I didn't know." He pressed his palms against the steel and shifted away from the edge.

Seungcheol felt small relief at the sight of him no longer one slip from tragedy and simply stood there, cautiously watching the boy move his leg over the railing.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, you're fine," Seungcheol assured him. "... _Are_ you fine?"

The boy brought his other leg over and stood a little ways from him. He nodded, patting dust off the back of his jeans. Seungcheol exhaled and slightly relaxed his shoulders.

"Are you sure? I mean... you were almost off the edge."

"I'm fine," he said under his breath, head still lowered. The atmosphere tightened again. "I'm sorry for bothering you, I'll be on my way—"

"I told you, there's no reason to be sorry."

The boy slightly froze mid-bow and slowly rose straight again, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt. Seungcheol took a step forward and leaned an arm on the railing. He felt bad.

He quietly cleared his throat and tried to make the situation not feel as if he was scolding him.

"...How old are you, if I may ask? You look a bit too young to be out here at this hour." Attempt failed. Horribly. Drastically.

"17." "17?" He nodded. "How long have you been here?" He shrugged. Seungcheol was about to throw another question at the kid when he spoke up.

"Why do you keep asking me all this? It's late, I—" his voice wavering, he made eye contact and ducked his head once more. "I'll be going now—"

"Wait." He looked up.

"Let me walk you home."

"...You didn't even ask for my name."

"You cut me off before I could," Seungcheol replied. He held back a small grin, unable to read the mood. The only sounds that filled the current silence were the lake's waves underneath softly crashing against the rocks and the vehicles that drove by, paying the two no mind. The boy kicked a pebble or two before speaking.

"Chan." "Hmm?" "It's Chan." "Ah." "...What about you?" "What _about_ me?" "..." "Oh! Oh... Call me Seungcheol."

Seungcheol finally stepped away from where he had stood for the past three minutes, and stuck his hand out for the other to take.

"Let me walk you home, Chan?"

Chan stared at the offered hand for what felt like ages, and slowly but surely took it. Seungcheol shuffled forward next to him, acknowledged their surprisingly small height difference and adjusted their linked hands. They walked like this off the bridge, past a number of dimly lit streets and convenience stores, feeling the gust of wind each time a car sped by. Seungcheol asked himself why he had offered to walk a random stranger home on a whim, why said stranger had been there on the edge of the railing that night, _why why why._ Why had the boy's head been down this whole time?

"You know, looking down like that all the time will ruin your posture."

"...Where else would I look?"

" _Anywhere else?_ " Seungcheol couldn't help but let out a small bout of laughter. "See, there's a cat!" He pointed out a cat without a tail trotting across the street. Chan kept quiet.

"...There's another, cat." He pointed out another small feline, not as eagerly.

Chan slipped his hand out of Seungcheol's, and stopped walking. Seungcheol turned around and felt his previously warm hand grow cold.

"Why did you offer to take me home?" Chan looked him straight in the eyes this time. He didn't think anyone could look so vulnerable.

"...You're young, it's not all that safe to walk alone this late."

"I'm not a child. I'm 17."

Seungcheol stumbled on his words for a second, but didn't know what else to say. He couldn't fully explain himself; he wasn't sure why he offered either, why he had felt a sense of responsibility for a stranger. So he turned the focus off of him.

"Why did you agree?"

The silence was deafening.

Chan lowered his head once again, and Seungcheol took note of how his body tensed.

"Thank you for walking me." The younger mumbled, barely audible.

He turned and started walking in the direction they had just come from. Seungcheol didn't understand any part of what was going on, but he had a gut feeling telling him he probably shouldn't let the other out of his sight. He asked him why he was walking that way and he thought he saw him walk faster; he called his name and Chan had _definitely picked up the pace_. Seungcheol took a number of strides to catch up and reached out for Chan's arm before the other could break into a full-on sprint.

"Why are you heading back where we just—"

Chan was crying.

Seungcheol saw his brother in him.

Watching closely for any signs of opposition, he slowly brought Chan into his chest and gently reached around him and placed his arms on his back. The younger stayed quiet before breaking into small, heartbreaking sobs against Seungcheol's shoulder. He'd only met this boy on a bridge fifteen minutes or so ago, but now they were stood underneath a street light, Seungcheol rubbing the other's back and letting him dampen his jacket. It didn't make sense; nothing about this day made sense. He felt hands tighten on his chest, and he wished he knew what Chan was thinking, why he was crying, what came after this. When he heard his sobs die down, Seungcheol took a step back, brought his hands to Chan's face and wiped his tears. He whispered basic affirmations, telling him he was okay and not to cry any more.

"You know... I may not know who you are or where you're from," he paused to wipe another tear, "but considering you took a stranger's hand and let him walk with you this far in the middle of the night, I know you need some better judgement," he laughed under his breath.

For the first time that night, Seungcheol saw Chan smile. He felt something.

Chan hummed in agreement, nodded and brought his hands to his face to wipe his nose with his sleeve. "It's not the smartest thing I've ever..." His voice trailed off as his eyes widened at Seungcheol's shoulder. "Oh, your jacket—"

"Hey, it's fine. You don't need to apologize for anything, you were just crying!" Seungcheol patted Chan's arm and saw him grow embarrassed under the yellow fluorescent light. He held back the urge to hug him again.

—

They said their goodbyes _("Are you really going home?" "You're not going to go back to the bridge, are you?" "Are you sure?")_ and Seungcheol watched as Chan walked up the slightly inclined street until he faded into the shadows and could no longer be seen. He lingered there on the street for a few moments, accompanied by the chirps of crickets in the nearby shrubs. He reached into his jeans' pocket and pulled out his phone. 2:28 AM.

Seungcheol hoped Chan got home safely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *dora voice* do you see a trauma

_Click. Whirr._

Rays of sunlight beamed through the windows.

Almost as if it were a scene in a film, specks of dust—or backscatter, if you ask a photographer—leisurely floated about in the streams of light throughout the room. The dimly-lit studio apartment was still, only the sounds of birds chirping and cars passing by on the nearby street leaked through the walls of the complex. The simple, plain beauty of the moment brought Seungcheol to rummage through a nearby storage box and pull out his trusty instant camera. He had been lying in his bed for fifteen minutes snapping several photos of the dreamlike scene, each shot taken with a different angle.

Seungcheol liked photography. He considered himself an aspiring photographer, hoping that his work would consistently reflect his number one, personal goal: to create something honest. He didn't know exactly what "honest" entailed himself, but he believed it would make sense in time as many things do. How long that time would take, however, he didn't know either. It could have meant months, years, decades—it could have meant three seconds. Which, ironically, was the amount of time it took Seungcheol to remember he had a shift at the department store that same morning.

Mumbling a string of curse words under his breath, he jumped out of bed and hurriedly shimmied out of his jeans while shaking his jacket off. Watching the jacket drop onto his bed, he paused and stood in place for a few seconds, suddenly remembering the night two weeks before. The boy he had seen sitting on the railing. The boy he offered to walk home and the boy that accepted. Seungcheol gave the article of clothing a lengthy gaze, finally breaking the one-sided staring contest to dress himself and look somewhat presentable for work.

—

"Ouch!"

"Don't think I won't take serious action the next time you're late."

"Yes, sir. I understand."

Once his manager shooed him out of the office, Seungcheol winced and rubbed his forehead that had just been flicked by a rather strong finger. Still, he preferred the small punishment a lot more than being fired. He couldn't afford to lose this job as it was his only actual source of income.

It wasn't the worst job, nor was it the best; Seungcheol worked part-time at a warehouse-turned-retail store just outside of the city. He figured he'd be better off doing an average Joe's job rather than pursuing the unrealistic rap career he had dropped just a month prior. He still gets urges from time to time to go back to the underground scene, visit certain clubs where he had been a regular, perform under the warm lights again with the clubgoers jumping along to the beat.

"Yeah," Seungcheol hummed under his breath. "That'd be nice."

"What would?"

"GAH!"

Seungcheol jumped and turned around as quick as the laws of physics would allow him. Facing him was a young man gently closing the office door behind him.

"Yeesh, keep it down."

"Ugh," Seungcheol relaxed his shoulders. "I told you not to creep up on me like that anymore, it's—wait, hang on, how were you just in the office?"

"The desk."

"The... you were under the desk? Were you hiding, why were you hiding?"

"Aww," the man raised his hands to Seungcheol's face and squeezed his cheeks, "my Seungcheol-ie is so innocent." He released his cheeks and gave them a tiny smack each. "And dumb."

"Cut it out, Jisoo. I'm older than you," Seungcheol protested, pushing away his coworker's evil soft hands. "This isn't LA, over here I'm a _hyung_. Really, how many times must I remind you?", Seungcheol sighed.

Joshua, lesser known as Jisoo, was one of Seungcheol's coworkers at the warehouse and the only one he was somewhat friends with. He grew up in the states and moved to Daegu around a year and a half ago to prove to his parents that he could live alone. He could have just found a place back in LA, but he was much too petty to take the easy road. Joshua started out rough and had to stay with Seungcheol far too many times in the beginning, but he eventually got ahold of a studio apartment. Coincidentally, the one right next to Seungcheol's.

"Don't call me Jisoo! It's so intimate," Joshua jokingly whined. "You give me the respect lecture every time I see you, Seungcheol. I know you're older than me, but only by a few months."

"...Whatever, what were you doing in the office?"

"I'd rather not spell it out for you, _hyung_."

Seungcheol thought of possible scenarios as if he were a detective piecing together clues to solve a trivial mystery. _The manager quickly shoving him out of the room, Joshua hiding under the desk..._

_Hiding...?_

"Oh God, you didn't."

"Oh hoh, that was slower than I thought."

Seungcheol threw his palms onto his face and let out a muffled sound of disgust. "You blew the managerrrrrr..."

"Not to add insult to injury, but I haven't washed my hands yet."

"...And?"

"Thank God you're slow, I'm gonna get a headstart, bye!"

Seungcheol watched Joshua run down the back hallway, leaving him to think about what he meant by...

_"JOSHUA HONG!"_

—

Four hours slowly crawled by. By the time Seungcheol had caught up to Joshua, he decided it would be best not to beat him considering their manager probably wouldn't want that now. In return of being spared, Joshua offered to tag Seungcheol along for dinner with him and a few friends later that night.

It _had_ been a couple of weeks since Seungcheol left his apartment for anything other than work and trips to the convenience store. There wasn't any particular reason as to why he'd been staying home, he just... hadn't felt like leaving. He felt like he was back in a familiar, depressing rut, with something lingering in the back of his mind that he couldn't quite put his finger on no matter how hard he tried. It was distracting to the point where it started interfering with his ability to focus at his job. First it was stocking laundry detergent pods in the candy aisle, then it was soda on the shelves next to the dish soap, _then_ it was—

 _CLATTER_!

"Seungcheol, can you..."

...the Eiffel Tower of canned soups that he had worked on for 30 minutes falling to its unjust demise. He dropped to his knees.

"Ah man, what a bummer," Joshua sucked through his teeth. He crouched and set down the box he had been holding to the side to help gather the cans. "Since when have you been so out of it?"

Seungcheol sighed, reaching for can after can. "Like I'd know. I'm probably just tired."

"It seems more like a streak of bad luck to me," Joshua scoffed. "I guess you really should come with us tonight. My friends aren't too rowdy, so I think it'd relieve some stress for you to hang out with them."

"Are you trying to persuade me into going? I already said I will."

"Yeah, I know," Joshua hummed, "I'm just saying maybe you can snap some pictures, or whatever. Seems to be a thing you like doing." Seungcheol nodded, but wondered when and wherever Joshua ever saw him with a camera.

 

After the two finished restacking the soup cans into basic pyramids, Seungcheol's watch beeped.

"Does that mean your shift is over?"

"Yeah," Seungcheol grunted. He stood up and rolled down his sleeves, then lowered his hands behind his back to untie his work apron. "Hey, where is the place at?"

"It's in Bongsan-dong, The Lazy Diner, some American-style place. I'll be there around 7:30. Sound good?"

"Sure. But don't work yourself too hard in the meantime, huh? I see that stress zit," he winked.

"What? Where?

_"CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!"_

—

He wished he hadn't left his room.

The bus was filled to the brim with people, their clothes damp from the rainfall pouring down outside. Each time the driver went over a speedbump, it took everything in Seungcheol to prevent his knee from nudging into the elderly lady sitting down below him. The mere thought of having to deal with that situation made his head dizzy and stomach churn. He wanted to—no, needed to get out.

Once he reached a stop two or three blocks shy of his destination, Seungcheol squeezed his way out of the bus and into the rain sans umbrella. He had moved out of his mother's house over half a year ago, yet the thought of investing in an umbrella hadn't once crossed his mind. He hadn't thought of investing in much, really; Seungcheol's apartment only had a couch, dresser, nightstands, a VCR TV, and his bed. And, of course, several scattered storage boxes of miscellaneous belongings. Not the best living space and a little dusty, but it was home enough for him. Better than living with mother dearest.

_...Ah, is this it?_

Seungcheol stopped in front of the seemingly warm building with his hands in his jacket's pockets. He squinted through the diner windows and spotted a table of boys one sauce packet throw away from a food fight. He slid his hand out, wrapped it around the cold door handle and hesitated.

_I could just go home right now, easily. It's not like I'll miss out on anything. Joshua would be upset, but he'd also understand._

Against his anxieties, Seungcheol tightened his grip and pulled the door open.

—

"Then, I ran away at the speed of light before he could get a punch in!"

The boys at the table laughed and snickered. Joshua was retelling his encounter with Seungcheol that morning while the latter stuck a fry in his mouth and found himself chuckling along with the others. The former noticed this in the corner of his eye and wore a grin.

"There's the guy I know." Joshua threw his arm around Seungcheol and gave him a good shake. "This isn't as bad as you thought it'd be, huh? We've got Seokmin here, Soonyoung—we even managed to get Mingyu just to pull Minghao out of his cave," he motioned his free hand around the table.

"What? Was I only invited to lure out Minghao?" Mingyu chuckled and bit his straw, turning to the boy next to him.

"Don't make it sound like I came just for him," Minghao whined and lowered his head into his folded arms on the table, "I was told free food was going to be given to me, too."

"'Too'? So the free food was a bonus?"

"Close your mouth! Close it!"

"Kids, you're bein' loud," Soonyoung interrupted with his mouth full. "Hey, 'shua, weren't you going to bring another guy with you? Where's he at?"

"I don't know. I told him where to go and when. The rain's probably holding him up, he's not really one to ditch."

Seokmin sipped from his milkshake, glancing at the diner's entrance as its bell chimed. "What's he like?"

"Hmm... handsome? He's handsome and has a killer sense of humor. I'd never say that to his face, though, his ego doesn't need any more petting than it already gets via himself."

"So the guy's conceited?"

"Well, to be fair, I'd be a little conceited too if I were him. Dude's well off, so his house is fancy and all. What I'd do to live in it," Joshua laughed.

 

"Did I not offer you the guest bedroom twice?"

Joshua choked on his spit and spun around in his seat to see the last invite of the evening.

"That's a painfully cliché entrance."

Seungcheol was caught off guard, too, and turned around with fries almost comically sticking out of his mouth. Joshua saying this guy was handsome was a bit of an understatement, in his opinion.

"Sorry, I wasn't sure when to cut in! You were busy talking about an important subject," the modern day Adonis said with his own mouth, getting a mixture of laughter and groans from the table.

"This is Wen Junhui, Jun, Jerry, whatever you want to call him. I met him at university last year." Joshua introduced him to the group and went around the table giving their names.

A handful of greetings later, Junhui walked around the table and sat in the empty seat next to Seokmin, across from Seungcheol. Seungcheol got a better look at Junhui's attire; ripped jeans and a white button-up in contrast to his own half-zipped jacket and harem sweatpants. He knew it'd be silly to feel self conscious in this situation, but he was a little anyway. As he was scanning Junhui's body toe-to-tip and looking at his prominent Adam's apple, Seungcheol met the other's eyes clearly noticing his stare. He caught a short glimpse of a smirk from the other as he darted his eyes down at the table in embarrassment.

"So what's this about you having offerred Joshua a room to stay in?" Soonyoung spoke up before Seungcheol had a chance to even process what Junhui had said about a room.

"I told him he could stay at my place until he was able to get back up on his feet and have somewhere of his own to live and all," Junhui paused to steal a sip of the boy in question's coke, "but he rejected it twice and just slept on some guy's couch for God knows how long."

Seungcheol furrowed his brows in confusion. "For real?"

"Yeah, I don't know why and he wouldn't tell me why!"

"But you begged to stay at my apartment?" Seungcheol turned to Joshua and nonchalantly pointed wrist-up at the boy at his side. "You said you didn't have anywhere else to go!"

"I just thought that being in a small, studio apartment was cozier than a big-ass fancy house! What's wrong with that?"

The whole table looked at him and squinted. Even the literal table creaked as if it were also joining in on judging him.

"Wow, so Josh-hyung picks favorites," Minghao commented quietly. He picked up Mingyu's soda and sipped it noisily, receiving a slap on the shoulder from the tall boy.

"Pfft, 'course I don't."  
"Jisoo, you turned down Ken's dollhouse for my unfurnished apartment. That kind of sounds like picking favorites."  
"It's not favorites, your apartment was perfectly fine!"  
"Oh, oh, who do you like more, me or Soonyoung?"  
"Seokmin, I'm not answering that."  
"...Was that an answer just now?"  
"I—no!"

"Joshua," Junhui spoke up,

"Was it really too hard to tell me you had a crush?"

There were scattered laughs and playful gasps, sounds of denial from the man of the hour, straw wrappers crinkling between fingers, but Seungcheol couldn't hear anything. His ears gradually started to ring as he zoned out from the conversation and focused his eyes on a dirt smudge on the table.

_Crush._

_The cause of death was from the sudden impact of hitting the water, as hitting water at such a quick speed will subject vulnerable body parts to severe deceleration forces that have the possibility to be fatal, which these forces turned out to be in this particular case. Broken neck. Severed spinal cord torn from the brain stem. Hydrostatic shock. Crushed brain on impact. Crushed bones. Crushed._

_Oh, I need to get out of here._

Seungcheol started coughing, and coughing. He used it as a cover-up to excuse himself from the table to use the restroom, leaving Joshua to dwell in his pool of embarrassment. This was the last place he wanted to have some sort of episode, at some hole-in-the-wall restaurant with a friend and that friend's friends. He gently but hurriedly pushed open the door, passed the urinals to the farthest back stall, locked the door and sat on the cold tile floor. He deeply exhaled and pressed the palms of his hands on his eyelids, the cool skin barely soothing his throbbing headache.  _Why am I in here doing this right now, I don't need to be thinking about this, I'm not weak,_ thoughts like these along with vague dream-like memories surrounding _that_ swirled in his head as the drips of the leaking sink faucet echoed. After sitting there for no more than a minute or two, he got up with a sigh, dusted off the back of his pants, and unlocked the stall door when the door to the restroom swung open.

"Hey." Junhui.

"...Hey."

"Are you alright? That was quite the coughing fit back there, I have cough drops if you need one?"

Seungcheol managed to get a soft chuckle out,

"Who carries around cough drops?"

—

He's not sure how it started, or who was the one to initiate it, but Seungcheol was getting down and dirty on a Thursday night behind a diner with a friend of a friend he had met inside 30 minutes prior.

With his half-untucked and unbuttoned white dress shirt, he looked like a model from one of Seungcheol's magazines snug under his mattress. He wished he had brought his camera with him to save this view forever, but he was a bit too preoccupied making out with said view to care. Junhui looked like the kind of guy to be well versed in this sort of thing, as if he would be rough and over-the-top, but he was surprisingly sweet and even giggled into kisses when Seungcheol's eyes would widen and blink as if he were a lost puppy. Seungcheol roamed his hands over the other's chest up to his neck while his own cheeks were being gently cupped. He hadn't felt this way, this desperate for intimacy in over a year, which only made the entire moment feel more like he was on fire. His heart started beating so fast, he thought he was literally about to pass out in a damp alleyway. Maybe a little too on-fire.

"H-hey, hey, " Seungcheol softly pushed away to catch his breath, "let's take a break? The rain could start up again at any time now and they don't, uh, even know that we left the bathroom."

"Oh no, was I boring? I wasn't sure if I could've done... more, for lack of a better word."

"No, no, you're fine, it's just..." Seungcheol lowered his head and scratched at the ends of the other's long sleeves, "maybe you're a little too fine, also for lack of a better word..."

Junhui's laugh warmed him in the cold and made his heart skip a beat. God, he feels like a teenager again.

The two chatted some more as they adjusted their appearances to make it seem like they weren't just eating each other's faces twenty seconds ago. Raindrops began to fall onto the concrete of the alley as they swung open the rear-end door leading back into the restrooms.

Once they sat back down at the table, stepbrothers Soongyoung and Seokmin were quick to accuse the two of snogging in a stall, acting it out with exaggerated kissing sounds. Before Seungcheol could think of a lie to spin, Junhui laughed and casually explained that they had found a pair of geckos in the restroom and helped lead them back outside.

_...What? Who would believe that?_

"...Oh, that's way nicer than making out." "Yeah, it's cool of you to let them back out." "Did you know geckos are the only lizards with vocal cords?" "What, no way?"

_Dumb and dumber never fail to amaze._

—

As the night goes on, Seungcheol actually enjoys himself. It's important to take opportunities like this to relax sometimes, he thinks.

Soonyoung, being a biology major, delved into a seemingly-exciting conversation with Seokmin about reptiles _("There are snakes with legs. I know that look, you think it's fake but they're called skinks!")_ , while Mingyu and Minghao had been playing American football on the table with a sauce packet for a ball, their posed hands as goal posts. This left Junhui, Joshua, and Seungcheol to hold their own conversation with topics ranging from the previous couch-surfing subject, celebrity drama, even rising gas prices. Seungcheol noticed Joshua taking random glances at his neck or shoulder or something, but didn't think anything of it.

_  
CRASH!_

The table immediately fell silent with everyone perking their heads toward the direction of what sounded like dropped pots and pans, followed by shouts in the back of the diner.

_"Look at the mess you've made! Get out of here, don't bother coming in next week. My wallet doesn't want to see your face in here again, and frankly, neither do I."_

Soonyoung and Minghao exchanged awkward looks as a young employee left the kitchen, through the dining room and, out the... front entrance...

Seungcheol shot out of his seat and shuffled out from the table, ignoring Joshua's questioning. He made a beeline for the exit and swung it open without a hint of hesitation. He looked to his right, to his left, and he spoke before he could even think of what to say.

  
"Chan?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did not mean for this one to end the way it did

The chilly air felt as if it froze along with time.  
  
Chan slowed to a halt, turning to look behind him. It was that guy.  
  
The one from the bridge.  
  
_Oh, his luck was twisted tonight._  
  
Chan exhaled a visible puff of air and turned back around, speed-walking around the corner. He hastily untied his apron from the back and tossed it into an open dumpster in a passing alleyway.  
  
_“Wait, wait, don’t run!”_  Hesitant footsteps followed him, gradually getting closer.  
  
“I’m not,” he replied in a dull tone, “so don’t chase me.”  
  
“Oh, yeah,” the man grunted. What was his name again? It took him a few strides to get close to—well, about a safe meter behind—Chan’s side. With a light chuckle in a probable attempt to lighten the mood of the instance, he stated, “It’s been... a while!”  
  
Chan didn’t respond. It wasn’t out of annoyance, there just wasn’t really much to be said; he had only met him that previous night out of pure coincidence and nothing else. He knew nothing about this guy, for all he knew he could be one of those spies his elders had always warned him about. The chances of it were high. There was no other logical reason why he could find him at his part-time job, he thought.  
  
“...ing. Hey, come back to planet earth.” He earned a flick to the back of his head, snapping him back to reality. He stopped and turned around on his heel with the intent of cursing him out, but he could only get one syllable out before the next got stuck in his throat. Without his glasses he wasn’t able to tell _(curse near-sightedness)_ , but now that he was closer, he remembered just how handsome this man was. From his plump yet chapped slant-grinning lips to his bug eyes, it was a rather charming face. The late-autumn cold seemed to have flushed his nose and cheeks in a similar way to when one drinks and earns a warm, drunk glow. The man also radiated a peculiar feeling of familiarity, not because they had met prior to this night but there was simply a friendly manner about him. Chan then realized that he had been staring for a little over the normal amount of seconds you’d usually stare at a stranger, so he cleared his throat and blinked.  
  
“Sorry, what were you saying?”  
“You—it’s nice meeting you again. Kinda awkward timing for a coincidence like this, but nice nonetheless?” Chan nodded in agreement then groaned recalling the scene he must have witnessed.  
  
“You heard me getting chewed out by my boss, so yeah, awkward timing,” he complained, “but weren’t you sitting with a bunch of people? Are you not heading back?”  
  
“Ah, you’re right. I guess I was a little too in the moment to say anything before bolting out.”  
“‘in the moment’? What moment?”  
“You know, in the moment! It’s been weeks since we met, so bumping into you at this hole-in-the-wall was the last thing I would have expected.”  
  
He gestured with his arms here and there, nearly making Chan chuckle, but it did make him grin. “I can tell, the way you called my name all seriously with that shocked face made it feel like I was in a soap opera.”  
  
“The way your boss just fired you is proof you’re in a soap opera,” he laughed, followed by a scoff from Chan. “Speaking of, though, wasn’t that too much? He sounded real angry, even with that funny accent of his.”  
  
“Yeah, he’s from Canada, I think. Talk about American diner authenticity.” Chan snorts, “he’s a softie, but I guess I must have fucked up pretty bad tonight!” The guy standing across from him gasped and furrowed his brows. “...What?”  
  
“Watch your language!”  
“I’m... sorry?”  
“You’re 16, aren’t you? Yeesh, kids these days.”  
“I turn 18 in mere months.”  
“Yeah, right.”  
  
Two minutes passed of bickering over how someone fabricating their age is wrong and immoral before a phone chimed. Out of millennial instinct, they both pulled their phones out of their pockets. Chan’s notifications were empty, while the other man clicked his tongue at his own screen. “The guys inside are asking where in the world I ran off to. I should head back, I assume you probably won’t... plus, don’t you live a bit far from here?”  
  
“Yeah, but I take the bus. The next one comes in about... twelve minutes, so I’d better get going, too.” Chan exhaled checking the time on his phone and was about to slide it in his back pocket when his wrist was grabbed without warning.  
  
“Wait—oh, sorry, that was kind of tight.”  
  
They were close, the pressure on Chan’s wrist relieved almost as quickly as it was compressed. He looked up from the ground to the guy’s face inches away, quirked a brow down at the dark purple mark on his neck, and back up. Then it hit him.  
  
“Seungcheol.”  
  
—  
  
For a split second, Seungcheol thought the blood in his body must have froze.  
  
He backed up, faced the ground and gave a chuckle he hoped wasn’t riddled with embarrassment. “Ah, entirely my bad there. I just wanted to exchange numbers.”  
  
“Numbers? What for?”  
“What, are you going to wait a month for us to meet each other out of coincidence again? Maybe this time, we spot one another in the revolving doors of a hotel or something?” That last bit evoked a small laugh from Chan, but his face a pang of slight uncertainty, or had rather turned contemplative without looking directly into his eyes.  
  
“I... okay. Give me your phone,” Chan held a palm out for Seungcheol to hand his device over. He watched as Chan typed at the speed of light, then gave it back while a ding could be heard from his own pocket.  
  
“Wow, this might be the first time I got someone’s number that wasn’t a fake,” he revealed in earnest but somehow made Chan snicker. “Hey, are my love life troubles that funny to you? It’s hard being a man.”  
  
“What?” Chan held up his smile, “how does having a poor relationship track relate to being a man?”  
  
“Having to ask for numbers is hard! Initiating dates and kisses and everything else that comes with being a man! It’s taxing, sometimes.”  
“You’re so old fashioned that it’s not even funny!”  
“The kid with a flip phone is calling me old fashioned? That’s rich!”  
  
Chan huffed for what Seungcheol thought might just be the fifth time in the last ten minutes, and  received a punch on the arm, admittedly kind of cute. “Ah, I’ve got to go before the bus arrives, I forgot I didn’t buy a pass for tonight. You have a group of people who miss you, so go back inside.”  
  
Seungcheol heard a twinge of something in that sentence, but couldn’t put his finger on exactly what.  
  
“Alright. Get home safe, huh? ‘can’t be there to walk you home again.”  
“Yeah, yeah, the creepy old man just wishes he could.”  
“I take it back. Let the bus hit you.”  
  
They both laughed and exchanged waves as Seungcheol watched the kid walk up a hill in solitude once again, a definite feeling of déjà vu. Once he started making his way back to the corner, his phone buzzed in his coat pocket and he answered without checking the caller ID, assuming it was someone back in the diner.  
  
“Yeah?”  
_“Your fly’s down.”_  
  
The call disconnected as Seungcheol’s eyes immediately darted to his sweatpants of which have no zipper. He looked in the distance and found Chan smirking, wiggling his flip phone in his hand like a childish imp. God, that kid.  
  
  
  
  
  
Once Seungcheol reached the storefront, He was greeted by Soonyoung dragging a heavy-eyelid Mingyu out the door muttering something about how playing video games for dozens of hours without rest is unhealthy. He wanted to ask where they were headed, but decided not to as he slipped back into his somewhat timid nature, remembering he wasn’t even all that close yet with the other members of the group. Soonyoung noticed him standing there and gave a weird nod, returning to shuffle down the sidewalk.  
  
Seungcheol looked into the diner and noticed the others were still there, so he opened the door for the second time that night.  
  
—  
  
“Okay, let me get this straight,” Seokmin points with a cold fry, ”and correct me if If I’m wrong, but—you met a kid late at night forever ago, walked him home, and that employee just so happened to be him?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“That’s kind of sounds fake, but okay.”  
  
Joshua kicked Seokmin’s shin underneath the table, Junhui laughing to the side while he winced. “I admit that It’s a little out there, but I’ve never known Seungcheol to be a liar! Cut him some slack.”  
  
“Well, yeah, he doesn’t look the type to lie, but the story sounds so... written. Like some kind of fanmade fiction, almost. Are you sure you’re not a main character in a lonely man’s story?”  
“What are you hinting at?”  
“I mean, I’m just saying that—“  
  
“OKAY,” Minghao raised his head and sprung out of his seat across the table, slamming his hands down “I’ve decided not to remain here any longer.”  
  
“Makes sense, your sole reason to be here just got escorted out the door,” Joshua mumbled with a nugget sticking out of his mouth. Minghao groaned and started a rebuttal, but gave up halfway, sitting back down and resting his head in his stinging hands.  
  
“Is it so wrong to want to hang out with your best friend?” Eyebrows raised around the table almost as if on cue. “...let me reword that,” he said with a sigh and continued, “is it so wrong to want to hang out with your best friend who you caught feelings for?” Once again, as if it were planned beforehand, the group responded in unison.  
  
“No.”  
  
“What’s wrong is that Mingyu.” Junhui said his name bitterly and gestured in the direction in which the boy left with a straw wrapper, speaking like a divorce lawyer. “He seems like the cute yet painfully oblivious type. You’d better wake his senses somehow and do it soon, or he’s never going to catch on to how you feel.” Seungcheol and Joshua both nodded in agreement like little Junhui minions.  
  
“How do you suppose I do that?”  
  
There was a moment of silence before Seokmin snapped his fingers, eyes wide. “You spend the night at his place, right? It’s a completely normal chill-sesh and you’re gaming or whatever you two usually do next to each other, but you get tired. You pretend to fall fast asleep while leaned on his shoulder!”  
  
Seungcheol gaped his mouth and pointed at Seokmin as if he were Albert Einstein. “Oh, that’s not half bad? And if he shrugs you off, make sure when you sleep in the same bed, you snuggle. He’ll wake up and be like _‘E-eh?!’”_  
  
Joshua snapped his head and faced Seungcheol on his left. “I knew you were lying when you said you stopped watching shoujo live-action remakes! I could hear it through the wall!”  
  
“Guys.”  
  
The three looked at Junhui. Oh, there’s only four of them left—the storefront bell chimed as the front door came to a close.  
  
The table radiated with embarrassment. Not much was said the rest of the night.  
  
—  
  
Eventually the diner closed shop, leaving the four to go their separate ways back home. Seungcheol had exchanged numbers with Seokmin earlier, but hadn’t gotten around to it with Junhui. The latter was the one to suggest it actually, going as far as saying, “There’s no way I’d let such a handsome guy fall through my hands.” Joshua, zipping up his bag not too far away, had overheard and gave a scoff. Seokmin rang Soonyoung asking to pick him up while Junhui had parked his actual, own car a block away. He offered to give Joshua and Seungcheol a ride, but the former adamantly turned it down in favor of the bus.  
  
So there they sat, near the back in the last bus of the evening, headed home to their apartment complex. The rain had quit for the most part, leaving puddles on the road that reflected the lights on nearby buildings overhead. Joshua was by the window watching street lamps pass one by one as Seungcheol twiddled his thumbs in the seat next to him.  
  
“Ah...” Seungcheol threw his head back and exhaled, ”I don’t even recall the last time I ate a burger, I’m forever grateful to you for inviting me out tonight.”  
  
Joshua chuckled, head still facing the window. “What are you saying... It’s my job to yank you out of your place every now and then. I’ve never once seen you leave somewhere on your own accord.”  
  
_“Ahhh! A stalker! My best friend keeps track of my whereabouts at all times!”_ This earned Seungcheol a grinning eye-roll from the other. He flashed a grin back, which eventually dimmed as he shifted in his seat. “But you saying that actually reminds me of something I meant to ask about.”  
  
“What’s up?”  
“Earlier today when the cans toppled at work was when you told me about the plans tonight, right?”  
“Yes?”  
“You said something like, ‘bring your camera with you, it seems like photography is something you really enjoy’.”  
“I mean, it does! Why do you mention it?”  
“...You’re right, actually. I don’t remember why it stuck out in my head. I guess maybe because you showed interest in me!”  
“Because I…you’re one weird man, Choi!”  
  
Seungcheol snickered as Joshua jokingly pushed his cheek away, somehow making his neck pop as it rotated, caused them both to laugh. Joshua tried to hold his neck and ask if he was okay, but then it looked like he was choking him, so they laughed even harder.  
  
He’d ask how he knew about his photography another night.  
  
—  
  
Walking down the sidewalk a block or two from their bus stop, the pair continued to crack jokes and hold conversation on various topics that ranged from memories of high school to their favorite hot dog condiments. The rain had let up for now leaving nothing but colder, harsher air in its wake. The area surrounding their apartment complex was just outside the nearby metropolitan area, where distant traffic and the general buzz of the city could be heard. Stars were visibly shining in the night sky regardless of light pollution, tall street lamps’ bulbs were dim, and a slight breeze tickled at Seungcheol’s cheeks.

Countless purposeful puddle splashes by Joshua later, they reached the gate to the parking lot.

“Hey, Seungcheol?” Joshua slid his backpack off of his shoulder and rested it on a lifted knee, unzipping and digging through one of its pockets. Seungcheol gave a grunt and raised a brow. “How long do you plan on working in retail? I swear it doesn’t fit you.”

A puff of air could be seen escaping Seungcheol’s mouth as he chuckled. “What’s with that?” He shifted his weight onto one leg with both hands remaining in their coat pockets, looking down at the other who was still bent down and rummaging through his bag. “Sounds like you’re trying to elicit a mid-life crisis from me at 22.”

“Found it,” Joshua said under his breath as he zipped his bag up and slung it back over his shoulder, key to the gate in hand. He stuck it into the lock and twisted it, pulling the heavy gate open with a loud scratchy creak. “I’m just saying,” he began to reply, “You don’t seem the type to live such a casual, quiet life as the one you are right now!” He slammed and locked the gate while he slid the key into his jean pocket.

“I’ll have you know I’m living fine and dandy just the way I am. I have a roof, grocery money, and a generous amount of friends,” Seungcheol said with a smirk as Joshua walked past him, “I’d be greedy to ask for anything else.” The other man’s shoulders slumped as his steps slowed to a full stop in the middle of the apartment complex parking lot.

 

“Are you happy?”

 

Seungcheol’s eyebrows twitched facing his backside, puzzled. “What?”

 

Joshua turned around to face Seungcheol, and the look in his eyes made the air suddenly thick.

“Are you happy, are you satisfied? Are you really okay with how you’re handling your life right now?”

“Josh, what are you—”

“Because I’m not satisfied, having to see you go about everything so humbly, pretending like this is the best turnout for someone such as yourself. You get so lost in the thought of life that you forget to ever start living yours.”

He watched him.

“... Seungcheol,” Joshua lowered his voice that seemed to have raised without him meaning to, tone staying all the same, “I want to see you do what _you_ want. Indulge in _yourself_ for once, be selfish, for _once._ ”

 

Something small and white fell in between them.

 

“I want to see you pursue rap again.”

 

It began to snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "i get so lost in the thought of life that i forget to start living mine" - mitch welling/flatsound, 2012


End file.
